Sick Day
by Alex Snape
Summary: The Joker is sick! No, really...he's sick, and Harley tries to make him feel better. Rated M for language. Nolanverse Joker and Harley. FLUFF!


**Wow...this story is so random. It had to come outta my head though. And yes: it's fluff. Enjoy!**

Harley stood outside of the abandoned theater holding her warm mug of coffee and grinned as she watched the sun rise over the city skyline. She had awoken particularly early and decided that the weather was too perfect that morning to waste, and after brewing her beverage and donning her short red robe, she stepped out into the cool breeze.

The Joker was still in bed, tangled in the sheets with his still painted face in his pillow. Harley was at first surprised that he was still snoozing away as he was always up before she was, but she shrugged it off, remembering of the late time he had come into bed after watching the news.

She heard a noise beside her coming closer, but she just shifted her eyes to the source and whispered, "Morning, Towser."

The young, blonde-haired henchman returned her grin as he greeted her, his Styrofoam cup of coffee gripped in his hand. "Hey, Harley," he whispered back, shyly. "Ain't you cold?"

Harley hugged herself with her free arm and giggled. "Nah, I like the cold weather. I can't wait till it snows."

"Ugh," Townshend grunted. "Try driving in it..."

"Oh, I used to, when I had my own car," she said. "Shit, that was years ago. I guess I'm used to not driving so much now..."

Townshend chuckled. "Well, isn't that why your guy hired me?"

She giggled. "Yeah, I guess."

He took a small sip of coffee and said, "You might wanna at least put on some socks..."

Harley looked down at her bare feet and wiggled her toes. "Nah, I'll be fine."

It was a few minutes later and after her mug became empty that Harley realized the sun was almost full and she looked toward their window. "He should be awake by now," she said as she pivoted to the front door.

Before climbing the stairs to their bedroom, she poured fresh coffee into The Joker's favorite green mug. She made sure to put in his seven cubes of sugar and stirred it as she finally went to him, and Harley found him now on his back, snoring lightly with his mouth open.

She let out an amused giggle as she set his coffee on his bedside table, and she gently called out to him, "Puddin'? Puddin', get up..." Harley put her small hand on his thigh and tenderly shook him, making his snores stop abruptly and his coughing begin.

Harley stepped back as she listened to the deep heaves coming from his throat as he rolled over, squeezing his eyes tightly as he coughed into the mattress. His black paint was smeared and Harley could see beads of sweat on his temple as he rolled onto his stomach.

"Baby?" she asked, now putting her hand on his bare shoulder.

"Mm?" he groaned in response.

"Are you okay?"

The Joker coughed loudly again and slowly propped himself on his elbows as he put his fingers in his hair. "Yeah...I'm fine..." he slurred.

However, Harley could see the big sweat stain on the mattress cover beneath him. "You just have a really bad cough -"

"Allergies," he interrupted. He quickly sat up and brought his legs over the side of the bed. Harley could now see his chest glistening and a strand of white paint from his jaw line had traveled down his neck with a bead of sweat.

She gasped lightly. "Oh, Mistah J...that doesn't look like allergies."

"What?" he said with annoyance in his tone. He finally realized why she had an astonished look and rolled his eyes. "Oh, stop it, Harl. It's hot in here."

"Actually, it's as cold as it is outside. We don't have a heater in here, remember?" She trotted to the bathroom and soon came back with a soaked bath towel and wash cloth. "Here, put this over you..."

The Joker held up his hand to stop her, but grunted in shock when the cold towel was suddenly draped over his shoulders. The coolness of it soothed him, but he really didn't feel like being doted on at that moment, especially when Harley straddled him and proceeded to wipe the drenched paint from his face.

"Harley..." he growled. "Stop it..." But he groggily sat still as the cold rag eased the growing heat of his skin. He sighed deeply as she slowly swept the cool rag across his cheeks and down his nose. She bit her lip to stop her victorious grin after she successfully rid his face of the cake makeup. She stood up and walked away, and before The Joker could stand up to stretch he felt a thermometer being shoved into his mouth.

He growled again as he spit it out and pushed Harley out of his way as he went into the bathroom. "Leave me alone, Harley!" he snarled as he slammed the door.

She noticed the congestion in his voice and trotted to the bathroom door. "Puddin', take a very hot shower. The steam will help your sinuses clear up and -"

"Leave...me...alone..." came his deep voice, which was soon interrupted by more coughing. Harley heard him spit into the sink and then he groaned loudly as she bravely opened the door and stood behind him. The towel drooped like a cape around his shoulders as he continued to sputter into the sink.

She quietly approached him and pulled the towel off him, making him jolt upright and shove her into the wall. She shrieked in surprise as he glared at her. "Harley..." he sneered. "I don't need your bullshit right now..."

She was accustomed to his insults when he was in a bad mood, but she felt a pang in her chest as he said this to her. "I-I'm just," she stammered. "I'm just trying to help you...so you can feel better..."

"You want Daddy to feel better?" he asked, feigning gratitude in a sarcastic voice. "Huh, baby? Is that it?" He roughly grabbed her arm and forced her out of the bathroom. "Let me take care of myself..." And the door was slammed again.

"Mistah J!" Harley yelled, as she flew to the door, trying the handle but found that he had locked it.

Her exclamation was returned with a resounding cough from The Joker. After he caught his breath, he said, quietly, "Harley..." She could hear the congestion in his throat building as he spoke.

"How 'bout I make you a hot toddy?" she asked, hopefully.

"I don't need any weird remedies that you probably got from that crazy plant you hang out with..." he said and then roughly cleared his throat, spitting the phlegm into the sink.

Her giggling made him grin, to his own surprise. "No, Daddy," she said. "It'll help..."

"I don't want it..." he said, in a childish tone.

"It has whiskey in it," she said, smiling.

There was silence behind the bathroom door and then, "Okay, maybe a small one..."

Harley triumphantly trotted to the kitchen and made her special concoction, making sure the delicate balance of black tea and whiskey was perfect. She garnished the mug with a thin slice of lemon and carefully brought it to the bathroom door.

She lightly knocked. "Mistah J..."

After a small pause, the door creaked open and she met his tired, red eyes. The Joker lazily put his temple on the door frame. She noticed a few strands of his dark, greenish hair sticking to his sweat-drenched forehead.

He gingerly took the mug from her, the hot scent of alcohol reaching his nose. He took a closer smell and crinkled his nose, but he took a sip and held the liquid on his tongue. He groaned as he took a bigger sip. "S'good..." he mumbled.

Harley grinned and reached out to wipe his brow, but he moved his face away. "Baby, please," he said. "Not now..."

"You're not going out, are you?" she asked, worriedly.

"It's called 'work,'" he remarked after finishing his drink.

"Take a day off, Puddin'," she insisted. "Don't pretend you feel okay."

She heard him snort and then spit into the sink again. Harley glanced at the phlegm against the marble and sneered. "Ew..."

The Joker ignored her and pulled off his pajama pants to get into the shower, slightly stumbling as Harley caught him. "Honey," she whispered as she hoisted him up by his shoulders. "Let's put you back in bed..."

He shut his eyes tight and bobbed his head. He placed his forehead onto hers, making her gasp. "Oh my God...you're burning up."

Minutes later, The Joker was back in bed, his face in his pillow as he coughed loudly. "Harley...I'm fine..." But his lids drooped over his dark eyes as he greedily grabbed a tissue from the box Harley brought him.

She sat beside him as he blew his stuffy nose. "Here, I brought you some coffee, too."

"Mm-mm," he shook his head as he threw the tissue onto the floor and grabbed a fresh one. He caught his breath, saying, "Jesus...where the hell did this come from?"

Harley shrugged. "Who knows, Pud...here; lie back for me."

He sighed as he set his head onto his pillow and put his arm over his eyes. "Turn off the light. My head's pounding..."

"In a minute..." she said as she placed a cold rag on his forehead. "Just lie back and relax...and later I'll warm up some soup for ya..."

The Joker groaned, annoyed at her maternal inclination, but kept his impending insult to himself when she turned off the bedside lamp. He drifted into a light slumber as he listened as Harley cleaned the bathroom sink.

Hours later, The Joker sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes. He grabbed a handful of tissue and violently blew his nose, following it with a cough that echoed in his chest. "Ahhh, God!" he groaned loudly as he tossed the tissue under the bed and rubbed his eyes again.

He soon regretted his outburst when he heard Harley's frantic footsteps coming to the door. She opened it quickly and he raised his eyes to find her concerned brow. "Baby," she cooed as she knelt in front of him. "Are you okay?"

"You know I'm fucking not!" he tried to yell at her in his congested tone but was soon coughing again.

Harley smirked as she cleaned up the used tissue from the floor. "I warmed up some chicken noodle soup for you, Puddin'," she told him. "You wanna come downstairs?"

"Harley, just back off. You've already wasted enough of my time trying to act like my 'Mommy.'" His congestion was breaking up, she could tell, but she could still sense his fever when she stroked his cheek. "Stop it!"

"What's the big deal with me trying to help you feel better?" she asked, finally letting her frustration show. "I just want to make sure you're comfy and-"

He held up his hand to stop her. "I can make sure of that myself, girl. I survived perfectly well before _you_ came along."

Harley gave him a pitiful look and he realized what he had said as she quickly stood up, walked out of the bedroom and slammed the door, making his head pound even more.

"Fuck..." he whispered to himself as he got out of bed and fumbled with putting on his pajama pants. He blew his nose one last time and grabbed the tissue box as he walked to the door. "Harley!" he called out as he opened the door and walked down the stairs to the kitchen.

He found her stirring a big pot of soup and he coughed as he came up behind her. The Joker slammed the tissue box onto the kitchen table and came up behind her, stroking her upper back through her tank top. Harley shrugged him away, but he sluggishly placed his hands on her hips and gently kissed her shoulders.

Harley paused in her stirring to wipe away a tear, and The Joker moved his kisses to her neck. "Aww, baby," he muttered. "You know I didn't mean that...the way it sounded...I like having you here..."

She pursed her lips and concentrated on her soup. He stopped kissing her and clicked his tongue against his teeth. "Stop acting so pouty," he whispered. "I'm tired, is all. You know it's the cold talking, baby..."

He noticed that she continued to stir the hot yellow broth in front of her and he cleared the congestion in his throat as he placed his chin on her shoulder. "Smells good," he said simply.

Harley threw the spoon onto the stove and covered her face as she sobbed. "I'm just trying to make you feel better and you keep stopping me!"

The Joker couldn't help but chuckle. "Harley, like I said, I'm not used to being waited on." He paused so she could speak, but she just continued crying. "What is wrong with you? Why are you making my being sick such a big deal?"

She raised her bright blue eyes to him. "You don't need me!"

"What? Why would you-"

"Well, you pretty much just told me upstairs!" she squealed as she hid her face in his chest.

He just stood there, tired and confused, but gently wrapped his arms around her as she cried. The Joker really didn't know what to say to her. He had to admit that her adamant protests for him to rest actually worked, and the hot toddies she had made for him that morning helped break up his congestion.

However, he was now realizing how much the smell of her soup was helping with his appetite, and Harley lifted her head when she felt the rumbling in his stomach. She quietly giggled as she moved away from him and turned down the burner under the pot. "You want a grilled cheese sandwich, too?" she asked, wiping her face as she stirred her soup again.

The answer she received was The Joker turning her to him again and giving her a deep kiss.

Harley pulled away and licked her lips. "I'll take that as a 'yes,'" she said, grinning as she watched him take a seat at the table to wait for his meal.

**The next morning**

The Joker stretched his waking body, lightly coughing. He groaned as he raised himself up and scratched the back of his neck. He nudged Harley. "Come on, baby girl," he mumbled. "Go make Daddy some coffee; I gotta get goin'."

She didn't budge and he squinted at her still body. "Harl?" He leaned toward her and shook her awake.

Harley moaned as she rolled over and his eyes grew wide. "Whoa...baby. You look like shit..."

Her hair was in a tangled mess as she sat up and let out a deep cough as she rubbed her pale face. "Thanks," she said groggily.

He chuckled as he handed her the tissue box and she quickly grabbed one before a hard sneeze overcame her. She blew her nose and hanged her head. "Ugh...I feel like I've been hit by a bus..."

The Joker laughed as he went into the bathroom. "Or like you've been kissed by your sick boyfriend?"

Harley suddenly turned her wide eyes toward him as he turned on the sink. "Oh...my God," she said. "You _did_ kiss me! Why did you do that?"

He smiled as he came back to her. "Why did you_ let_ me?"

"I didn't think it would be the 'kiss of death!'" she shouted and then coughed roughly into the comforter.

"Oh, it's just a cold. Stop being such a drama queen," he said, throwing a cold rag onto her face.


End file.
